The Music In Me
by CB1204
Summary: Santana has just had some shocking news that has ended in her families move from California to Lima, Ohio. She's new to the area, bringing with her a bad attitude, crazy good musical abilities and unbelievable soccer skills. When she comes across the glee club, and more importantly Quinn, what will their reactions be?


**Well hey guys, I'm here with a new story for you all which has taken me quite a while to plan along with the help of who i'd like to call a new friend, demi.123 :)**  
**By no means whatsoever does this mean that For You I'd Give My Life is taking a back seat, i just wanted a bit of a change and this idea wouldn't get out of my head, it just had to be written. **  
**So i hope all you guys like it and be sure to leave me your opinions, they're always a great help :)**

**I have nothing to do with Glee.**

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I was sat in the back of the U-Haul, ear buds firmly placed in my ears and the music blaring. God, I was pissed. How could they do that to me? How could the keep this from me for so long?

I punched one of the filled boxes of shit next to me, instantly regretting my actions when my fist connected with the solid side. I shook my hand out slowly and waited for some feeling to come back into it. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the side of the van, trying desperately to get lost in my music; it seemed to be the only thing that could keep me sane at a time like this.

Among everything that was going on, why did my 'parents' feel like it would be a good idea to move house all the way across the country? How the fuck could Lima, Ohio compare to California?

I huffed out a frustrated breath and muttered silently in Spanish. I don't think anything could really calm me down from how much I hated my life at the moment. And now that I was moving house as well, It wasn't even like I could vent to my friends about how much I wanted to murder someone to get my anger out.

Oh, and to make matters even fucking worse, I was being forced to enrol into some crappy High School called McKinley, I was joining the school in Junior year so I was going to have to make a good impression to halt the bullying before it even started.

I scanned the darkness tiredly in front of me as I was jolted with each corner turned or each bump we drove over. We had been on the move for what seemed like hours, and my ass was killing, though I would much rather a numb bum than sit up in front with those two dicks, pretending life was all sunshine and fucking roses.

Whipping my phone from my pocket I squinted to check the time; surely we must be nearly here by now? And as if on cue, we stopped. If I was being honest with myself, I would probably admit that I was actually pretty fucking excited about the new start. It meant new friends, new writing material and a new soccer team. (I should probably mention that I used to be in a band at this point. Oh, and that I'm pretty athletic.)

The door to the back of the van was rolled up and I was met with the blinding light of the afternoon sun. I shielded my eyes for a long, awkward few seconds before moving my hand to find the faces of my supposed parents, Maribel and Miguel, their eyes sorrowful and guilty and their mouths flopped open and closed, unsure of how they should act around me.

I decided to make the decision for them and sprang up from my seat on the box, ignoring how painful and numb my ass and legs were. I rolled my eyes dramatically and snatched up my trusty guitar from where it lay beside me, I stormed past them quickly, making extra sure to knock into 'father' dearest with my shoulder. I didn't even bother to turn around to see the look of hurt pass across both of their faces.

I was actually pleasantly surprised when I rounded the side of the van and the new house came into view. The 'rents had quite clearly splashed out with their money and bought one of the largest houses on the street, it was one sexy mansion. It's not like I was completely gobsmacked by the size of the house or anything, what with Miguel being one of the top surgeons in America and Maribel being a top notch author, it's not like we were ever short of cash. It just seemed like they were overcompensating because of… Recent events.

I tried desperately to not let my delight show about our new home and forced my face to keep itself stony. I stomped up to the house in full strop mode and ripped open the front door, which wasn't even locked, that's a good start. M&M had already informed me on my living quarters through my silent treatment to them, I was to be living on the third floor by myself and I could do whatever I wanted to do with it. I was even allowed to spend as much money as I wanted with the decorating.

Though they had given me free reign on how much money I was allowed to spend, it still didn't justify why they would have lied to me through my whole sixteen years of fucking existence. I wasn't one to complain though; I needed to make myself a sound proof room for when I formed a band. Plus, it would always be an advantage if I could make myself my very own house within a house sort of thing so I would hardly ever have to see those lying bastards ever again.

I arrived at my new floor and scanned the whole space, I could definitely convert this into a mini apartment type thing and it was all an added bonus that mine was the floor with the balcony overlooking the pool out back. A wry smirk came onto my face before I could stop it, I could _so_ jump off that balcony and land in the pool, I would just have to check the depth.

Unfortunately, all those sorts of shenanigans would have to wait until my floor was decorated and I had actually made some friends, the latter would take the shorter time what with school only starting next week.

I gently placed my guitar onto the crisp bed that lay in the corner of the first section of my floor, the only thing to actually be on my empty floor at the moment.

I swung my bag off of my shoulder and emptied its contents: A writing pad, laptop and a pen, all the things that a Santana needs. I picked up the writing pad and scanned the pages of writing that already filled it up, nodding at some of the rhymes that I'd come up with en route to Lima. Sure, they were all angry and depressed, but I could definitely connect them up and make them into a fucking kick-ass rock song.

I dropped the pad down again and felt around in my jeans pockets for some money, I was fucking starving and a McDonald's was the way forward. I pulled out a $10 bill, that would do nicely I nodded approvingly.

Changing the song that I hadn't realised was still playing in my ears, I made my way back down the two flights of stairs and out of the front door, much to the surprise of M&M who seemed to think that I 'should be pulling my weight' and that I should be 'helping out'. Hah, I've never 'helped out' a day in my fucking life and I wasn't about to start now.

I smirked at their predicament and dramatically bade them farewell as I walked away, the only problem was I didn't know where the fuck I was headed. Though I didn't really know where the hell I was, I decided to carry on and see where my feet took me, the day was beautiful and my music was keeping me relaxed. Giving myself a curfew was definitely a priority however because I needed to do some serious appliance buying.

XXX

After a good hour or mindless strolling filled with confusion and double backing, I finally found myself at a little mall, a McDonalds resting right next to it. It literally took all of my will power not to run over to it; I could swear that my stomach had started eating itself because I was that hungry.

I strolled over to the door casually, you know, like I knew where the hell I was. I was just looking up at a sign plastered on the side of the mall promoting something or other when I bumped into a tall, strong frame. It was safe to say that it was me who was the one to land on my arse and look like a complete loser. _Great start Santana_. I may as well make the most of the situation now and rip this guy to shreds with my quick wit and devilish words, "The fuck, man?" I pulled my earphones out of my ears angrily.

"Whoa, babe, no need to be feisty, are you hurt? I'm sure good 'ol Puckasaurus will be able to kiss you better." He sent me a sleazy wink and held his hand out to lift me up.

I pulled myself up quickly, without touching his probable diseased ridden hand, and sneered at him in disgust, "Number one, as if you have just referenced to yourself in the third person, number two, what the fuck is that _thing_ on your head? I feel like if I get too close to you a plane is gonna land on me or some shit. And finally, number 3, unfortunately you've got the D where I like to see the V, so sucks for you." I shrugged in fake sympathy and sauntered past the guy's gobsmacked face, looks like he's not used to being turned down.

I made my way quickly up to the counter and ordered my food with a fake smile; I just knew this guy would be persistent and follow me in. It took him around five seconds to stumble up next to me, "Hey, there was no need to be like that now was there? I was only offering you a good time?" He nudged me with his shoulder when I refused to look his way.

I sighed in defeat, looking towards the ceiling before rolling my head to face his cheeky smile, "Sorry, 'Puckasaurus', but I've already rode the dick train and it didn't tickle my fancy, I don't think your small excuse for manhood is going to give me a huge revelation on my life choices." I paid the smirking employee and took my food from them, walking out of the shop before the guy could answer. It was just my luck though for him to follow me out,

"You know you really know how to cripple a guy's confidence," He placed a hand to his heart, "and hey, I wasn't trying anything on back there, I'm totally cool with lesbianism, whatever floats your boat and all that shit," He quickened his pace and stopped in front of me, his hand outstretched, "I just wanna be your lesbro, Puck is the name."

I examined the guy as he looked at me hopefully, it was a definite fact that if I swung the other way, I would for sure think he was a hottie, with his chiselled face and muscled arms he could make any girl swoon. You know, if they were straight.

Taking a bite out of a chip, I lulled over my options, I could fuck this guy off, a guy who is probably the badass of the school, and become the new kid who never gets friends because muscle freak over here has blacklisted me, or I could take Mr adult/child person under my wing and make an instant reputation for myself. I could only see one way this decision could go.

I shifted my bag of food onto my left arm and gripped his hand with my right, fuck people with their right handed ways, "Santana, I'm sure it's more of a pleasure for you meeting me than me meeting you." I rolled my eyes as the joy filled his face when I grabbed his hand. He shrugged his shoulders undeterred by my bitchy character,

"Damn straight! You're smoking hot and I completely agree with you, but you'll get used to me sooner or later and then you'll never be able to get enough of the Puckzilla!" He beat his chest like an ape and began jumping around howling. Fuck man, what had I gotten myself in to?

"Puck? Puck isn't it? Please stop what you're fucking doing before I have to beat you to death and rip that beaver off of your head!"

He stopped immediately, "The hell, man? The Mohawk is here to stay, it is the ultimate badass hairstyle known to man." He ruffled his hair lovingly. I swear, if his Mohawk was a person he would probably fuck it.

We sat down on some grass near the McDonalds as I ate my food. We talked about bits and bobs, just getting to know each other a little really, feeling each other out in a metaphorical sense. Though when Puck did start to get a little personal, I would always divert the conversation back in his direction without him even realising it, oh the power of being the smarter person in a friendship.

Puck seemed like a pretty genuine person, with him it was what you see is what you get pretty much and that's what I like in a person, transparency. It was clear to me though that he was definitely a person who would act different with his friends than with acquaintances, he was probably a dick to people he didn't know. It was quite obvious that he liked to pretend he was hard as nails, but he was just a complete softy on the inside.

What really got my attention with him was when he started babbling on about this 'glee club' that he went to; they were in competitions and everything. Me being the secretive person that I am hadn't told him about my love for music and decided to test the waters, "So glee club, that sounds pretty lame," I fake laughed and scrunched up my face.

Puck laughed along with me, "Yeah, that's what I used to think when I wasn't in it, see I'm on the football team and you know what it's like in school, you gotta keep your rep up and glee was just a no go. But as soon as I went I loved it, never cared about what people have thought about me since." He shrugged a single shoulder then smirked, "It doesn't matter anyway, I'm still the biggest badass patrolling those McKinley corridors."

"Yeah that's till I start there," I smirked at him and shoved him in the shoulder, forcing him to fall on the grass.

Puck soon span around looking like a kid at Christmas, "You're joining McKinley? What year? Oh my God this is so awesome!" He was literally buzzing in his spot.

I decided to indulge him, he was like a little puppy, "Junior, I might even join your little glee club, see if I can get myself some recruits for a band."

"Wait- what?" Puck was suddenly more interested, he shuffled closer, "Dude, I _so_ want in if you're making a band, I can play guitar!"

I raised a single eyebrow his way, "You best not be fucking with me Puckerman, I'll hold you to that, though you're gonna have to be the rhythm guitarist because I own that lead guitar spot."

"Totally fine by me as long as I get input into the naming process." Puck spat on his hand and held it out to shake.

I studied his eyes for a long time, trying to get an inclination into how serious he was about actually doing this. I mean, I've known this guy for one day, for all I know he could be a huge fucking rapist serial killer.

I could see honesty in his eyes though, and he seemed pleasant enough, could even sort of call him my lesbro now without it sounding too weird. _Fuck it_. With a shrug of my shoulders I spat on my hand and shook his outstretched one, cringing at the sound of the spit squishing together.

"So now the deed is done, I _so_ know a way to get some publicity for our budding band." With the look of Puck's devilish grin, whatever he had on his mind would most probably end up with us both in a weeks' worth of detention, so it was the obvious choice to go along with his scheming.

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